Fixation
by macphisto87
Summary: A seemingly typical occurance at the 4077th the arrival of a new nurse turns serious for Hawkeye, who has been experiencing his own inexplicable and unique brand of 'off days'.
1. Chapter 1

AN: If anyone's read "Something to Think About' you'll realize these are the same stories. For some reason that other file corrupted itself and will not open, so I've reposted it undera different name just to make my life a lot easier.

Disclaimer: I'm sixteen folks, I wasn't even alive when MASH went off the air.

_**Chapter One**_

It was neither the permeating stench of feet nor the constant roar of jeeps in and out of the compound that woke him. Hawkeye had grown almost impervious to the constant sounds of the 4077th, just as he had grown used to sleeping in the middle of the day, eating food that practically tried to crawl off his plate, and operating in a perpetual state of half awakeness. No, not a lot bothered Hawkeye Pierce any more, but something awoke him that morning and he found himself suddenly strangely alert, staring at the ceiling of the Swamp in bemusement, wondering. It was the first time in a long time that thoughts other than what was occurring to him in the present found their way into his consciousness. Strange, displaced memories drifted about, bumping into each other, and he lay there for nearly an hour trying to sort them out. It was not even dawn yet but he felt the weight of the coming day settling on his shoulders as he struggled for those last few minutes in bed.

And just as the last bit of sun emerged from beyond the rolling Korean hills, he heard a grunt from across the tent and turned his head to see his friend, B.J. Hunnicutt, struggling to prop himself up on his elbows. He turned his head, golden brown locks touseled and his upper lip newly devoid of his beloved mustache, and grinned sleepily at Hawkeye. "Well good morning sunshine. Why so lively? It's not even technically daytime yet."

"Oh, I don't know," Hawkeye replied, solemnly. "I was just trying to win you over with my deep sensitivity. Is it working?"

"Is it ever. But what are we going to tell Peg?"

Hawkeye grunted in reply, his eyes still fixated on the roof, his brow creased in thought. B.J. lifted his eyebrows and swung his legs out of bed. "Bad dream? Should I phone the doctor?"

"Just get me a nurse to take my temperature," Hawkeye replied unenthusiastically. "I think I should get a full body exam while I'm at it." He grinned suddenly, shattering his heavy pensive mask and turned to look at his friend. He was about to say something when he stopped, peered more closely at B.J., and started to laugh. "Either I'm more hung over than I thought or your upper lip is suspiciously paler than the rest of you."

B.J. grinned. "Don't you remember?"

"It's starting to come back…"

"I can't believe I let them shave it off. My pride and joy! Gone!"

"It'll grow back," Hawkeye replied, a small grin on his face. "And just think of how happy you made all those birds and mice! They'll have something to nest in this spring." He put his head in his hands suddenly and moaned under his breath. "Man, Seoul wasn't the only thing that got bombed last night."

Charles was similarly propped up on his elbows, eyeing Hawkeye suspiciously. "What's this? Is our everlastingly witty chief surgeon feeling a little under the weather? Would you perhaps like a nice bucket of cold water to stick your head in? That always does the trick, I hear."

"Tell you what, Charles," Hawkeye retorted, sitting up, "you try it first and let me know how it goes." He got up and slipped into his housecoat. "I believe I hear the scurrying of tiny feet across the compound."

Sure enough, a split second later Radar threw open the door of the tent and dove inside, hunkering down behind the stove in a little ball. The three surgeons stared at him in silence for a moment before Hawkeye ventured to walk around the stove and peer down at the scrawny clerk.

"Look, you know I hate to pry in on people's private business but-"

"Shh! She's coming!" hissed Radar desperately.

A second later Nurse Baker threw open the door of the Swamp and furiously stormed in. B.J. and Hawkeye both squealed in mock embarrassment and hastened to cover their revealed boxers. Hawkeye stuck his nose in the air and humphed loudly. "I'm sorry my dear, but you had your chance. The Maison du Pierce is closed for the night." He glanced at her devilishly from under a lock of displaced hair. "We are however, having a matinee. Noon, my place. Cocktails are free."

"Where is he? Where is that little fink!" she shouted, storming around the stove to where Radar was cowering. "There you are! You got a lot of nerve! If these three weren't around you'd be getting SUCH a licking mister." She turned to Hawkeye, red hair falling out of her ponytail in her fury. "Do you know what this…this fool has done?"

"Clipped his toenails all over your stockings?"

"Worse! We don't even HAVE stockings anymore thanks to him!" She turned to Pierce. "Do you remember yesterday when we ran out of bandages? Guess what he grabbed to cut up and sterilize! Almost every nurse's undergarment he could get his slimy little hands on!"

"I'm sorry, missus, I just grabbed the first thing I saw off the clothesline, I swear!"

"You'd better be sorry! What are we supposed to do now?"

But B.J. and Hawkeye were both crouched over in hysteria. "Are you meaning to tell me that those boys in Post-Op are wearing unmentionables on their cuts and scrapes?" The thought brought on another wave of laughter, even Charles allowed himself a small chuckle.

Baker was standing with her hands on her hips, but they could see even her mouth was twitching. "Just order us new ones," she ordered Radar, before storming out.

When the hilarity had died down, Hawkeye stood up and pulled on his pants. "C'mon, Radar, I think it's safe now."

"Good." He stood up, gingerly. "I gotta finish filing those reports before the colonel gets back and I don't need the entire nursing staff breathing down my neck neither. They're mean when they've been in post-op all night! I'll be glad with the colonel gets back."

"Ah, yes, good ole Sherman T. How I have missed our noteworthy leader. What was he up to in Seoul this time? Stealing from the rich? Giving to the poor?"

"Naw, he was just picking up that new nurse. Remember, Lieutenant Trawly got pregnant on her honeymoon and-"

"Yes, we know all about Trawly, I'm the one who made the diagnosis," B.J. said hurriedly, holding up his hand. "But what's this about a new nurse, the colonel never said anything."

Radar's face suddenly fell and he blushed. "Oops."

"Radar, were you under orders not to tell us?" Hawkeye inquired, smiling in amusement.

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes shifting. "Maybe."

Hawkeye hooted in laughter. "Well, I am thoroughly dismayed at the colonel's lack of trust in me. As if I, the esteemed Benjamin Franklin Pierce, would pounce on a poor, unsuspecting nurse like some sort of…of…"

"Cretin?" finished Charles, pulling his boots on.

"Yes, cretin. Thank you Charles." He ran a hand through his hair. "But really, how do I look?"

"As disturbed as ever."

"Really? I was going for diabolical." He shrugged and sauntered out into the morning sunshine.

B.J. and Charles glanced at one another with lifted eyebrows.

"You think he's going to try something?" Charles drawled, gazing outside with raised eyebrows.

"I don't think he will, I KNOW he will."

Charles sighed heavily. "It's a shame. Such potential wasted on such a foul creature."

"They're cute at first. And then they grow up."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

If it weren't for the war, Korea might have been a very lovely place.

Lara watched the rolling hills speed by as their jeep bumped along. The sky was a clear azure, not a cloud marred its soft skin. No, the scenery, currently devoid of the usual tanks, artillery, and potholes, seemed nearly untouched by the war.

It was something else. From the moment she had landed in Seoul she had felt it. The entire country was brimming with an invisible energy, a bizarre melancholy indifference at the same time mingled with overwhelming passion and sadness, a contradiction, she knew, but at the same time helpfully explanatory. The entire country seemed a paradox. She was unsure what to make of the place. It seemed to be filled with citizens who cared more about the welfare of their farm animals than whatever was occurring around tables and in front of maps hundreds of miles away. To them the war was an alien thing that was just happening, unstoppably, a monster threatening to rip apart their traditional way of life and replace it with Americanism.

The man driving beside her, the colonel, must've caught onto her pensive expression. He chuckled merrily, and said with a sardonic tone, "Why the long face, sweetheart? It's only a war, after all."

She smiled in reply. Colonel Sherman Potter seemed to be a jolly enough fellow, regular army, but good humored, kind, and friendly. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just thinking."

"Don't start. You'll get yourself all tied up in knots before you can figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

"Why we're here, of course." He looked at her strangely. "I've got folks who've been trying to think it through for years. Drives them looney."

She nodded, slowly, extremely confused. After a few moments of bewildered silence, she spoke again. "It was nice of you to pick me up like this."

"Well, I don't usually make personal trips for this sort of purpose. Usually it's up to the nurse herself to get out here, but I was in Seoul anyway so I thought I'd do the honours."

"Ah. Were you attending a conference?"

He chuckled. "In a manner of speaking." He gestured to the backseat where a tall, hairy, black-haired man was collapsed. "This is Klinger. He attempts to go AWOL about once a week. Sometimes he actually succeeds. Had to bail him out personally, he's been in the slammer in Seoul so often that the M.P.'s actually have a bet going when he's going to come in next."

She laughed. "Why hasn't he been court martialed yet?"

"Well I've always said you can't blame a man for trying."

"And no one at HQ's picked up on his file?"

"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. I hope he cuts this out, I'd hate to see him thrown into the stockade. This kid don't belong in the army."

"None of us do."

"Ain't that the truth." He shook his head balefully. "Klinger's been trying to get out since the whole thing started. Went through a stage where he'd only wear women's clothing. Too bad you missed it, I'll have to show you pictures."

Lara smiled broadly and glanced back at the dark-skinned man. "It sounds like you have quite a cast of characters."

He glanced at her, furtively, and sighed. "Just you wait, my dear. Just you wait."

The jeep rolled underneath the crudely painted sign "4077th" and came to a stop in front of a long wooden building. Lara hopped out and grabbed her bags. "Place seems quiet."

Colonel Potter came around the jeep and eyed the compound suspiciously. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Just then the doors of the wooden building opened and a tall man strolled out. He was blonde, with a high forehead and kind blue eyes, and he was wearing a long white coat and studying a clipboard. He looked surprised to see them standing there.

"Colonel? You're back!"

"Hunnicut?" The colonel stepped a little closer. "What the hell happened to you?"

The doctor tentatively touched his upper lip. "You like it? Hawk and I…well there was a poker game…"

The colonel held up his hand. "No more explanations needed." He stepped a little closer. "Where's Pierce?"

B.J. shrugged. "Dunno. I relieved him a couple of hours ago, he should be in the Swamp."

The colonel looked around suspiciously. "Are you positive that's where he is?"

"Not really. To be honest, I'm surprised he hasn't leapt out and proposed by now." He glanced over the colonel's head at the woman standing there. He studied her in silence for a few seconds while her eyes flitted around the compound. She was quite tall and slender, long legs, tiny breasts, brown hair. Her face was pretty but not amazingly so. Mostly it was the straightness of her back and the strong lift of her chin that impressed B.J. He glanced back at the colonel and lowered his voice. "You should know, sir, Hawkeye's been a little off the last couple of days. Not outwardly, no, on the outside he's pretty much the same, but he seems more distracted, more 'out of it' than usual. Even more cynical, if that's possible."

"Do we need to get Friedman down here?"

"Nah, I don't think it's that serious yet. Let's just see if he snaps out of it."

A sharp-eyed blonde came out behind B.J. "Colonel, how was your trip?"

The colonel smiled at her and gestured to the jeep where Klinger was lying, fast asleep. "Fruitful as always." He gestured to Lara. "And this is your new nurse, Lara Dalton."

Margaret smiled courteously. "Excellent, we've been waiting for you. Come with me, I'll show you to your quarters." She strode off leaving Lara to struggle after her with her bags.

B.J. and the colonel watched them go, then glanced at one another. Still no Hawkeye. Lara had even gone right past the Swamp and there was no movement from within.

Nothing was said. B.J. tucked his clipboard under his arm and strode past the jeep, giving Klinger a sharp rap on the head as he walked by. "Have you seen Charles? He's supposed to be relieving me."

"You go check on Pierce. I'll handle Winchester."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

Lieutenant Harry Townsend licked his lips and threw another buck onto the table. Eyebrows lifted.

"Someone's confident," murmured Klinger suspiciously, wriggling his nose as he concentrated on his cards.

Harry's dark brown eyes flashed around the table, but his poker face was legendary. Not even a twitch of the lips. One by one, all the men tossed their cards down.

And then Father Mulcahy sighed heavily and stood up, throwing down his cards. "I'm out."

"What's the matter, Father?" protested Corporal Gibbons. "I was just gonna suggest you give up the priesthood and come with me to Vegas. You and I'd make a great team."

Mulcahy looked faintly pensive for a moment. "Vegas…Vegas…good business for priests there. Lots of people getting married, lots of people repenting the morning after..."

A few chuckles were uttered around the table but mostly everyone's eyes were on Klinger and Harry. Klinger batted at his earlobes anxiously, as if wishing he still had a pair of earrings to fiddle with, then cleared his throat, sat up straight and laid down his cards.

Harry nodded serenely at Klinger's hand, then calmly laid down his. "Full house. Thanks guys."

The tent erupted, and Harry merely swept the cash into his pockets and stood up. "It's been a pleasure." He tipped his hat and strolled out of the tent.

Klinger dashed after him. "C'mon, pal, one more round! Just let me win back a couple of bucks! I need to pay off Zale before he knocks my block off!"

Harry stopped, gazed down at the ground, and shook his head. "Max, it's simple. Go to Rosie's, sell your last garter belt, and get back into the game."

Klinger looked aghast. "My last one? But…but…the memories!"

"Okay, but I'm not going to replace all your teeth for free you know."

Klinger bowed his head. "I am humbled by your wisdom, oh Great One."

For the first time, Harry flashed Klinger his typically charming grin. "Great One? Now we're talkin'. Tell you what, just for that, you can come by my tent. I'll give you a free bridge."

Klinger's brows furrowed as the tall lieutenant strolled away. "But sir, my teeth are…fine."

Harry joined the line in the mess tent behind Captain Hunnicut. B.J. looked up at him and smiled. "Hey Harry. How's the mouth business?"

"Same old. Smelly, terrifying and frequently deadly. How's the body business?"

"Smelly, terrifying and frequently deadly."

Igor chuckled and slopped a ladle of mashed yams onto Harry's tray. "Hey, it applies to the food too!"

Harry and B.J.'s faces both turned deadly serious. "Hey, it was all fun and games when we were joking about people's lives, but c'mon! This is food we're talking about! Show a little decency, would you?" B.J. slammed his tray down in illustration and stormed off.

Harry grabbed a toothpick from the jar and a glass of milk. "It's only because I feel sorry for you," he announced loudly before stomping after B.J.

They slid into a table and stared morosely into space. "Why is it the same every day?" B.J. muttered. "Wounded, filth…"

"Filthy wounded."

"Bad food, infuriating people."

"Infuriating food, bad people."

B.J. smiled but his eyes were still glazed over. "I'm so tired I can't even gather the energy to close my eyes."

"Well they've invented this amazing device. They call it a bed."

"Shut up, you're turning into Hawkeye. Speaking of which…" B.J. straightened up and regarded Harry seriously, "have you seen him around today?"

"Not since this morning when you relieved him. He was going into the Swamp."

"Well, he's wandered off somewhere."

"Probably on a romantic rendevouz."

"Without telling me? Without telling us?"

"Good point. He's definitely grounded when he gets home."

B.J. laughed tiredly. "Har, I'm so tired my witticisms are tying themselves up into knots. I've gotta go to bed."

"Hm, why didn't I think of that?"

B.J. grunted and stumbled out of his seat and out into the sunshine. Harry heard him shout, "Ah…natural light!" before wobbling across the compound into the empty Swamp.

Harry sipped his milk and grimaced. The stuff got harder and harder to stomach each day. He glanced at it, wrinkled his nose, and threw it over his shoulder.

"Hey!"

He winced. Oops. He swiveled around fast, his most apologetic smile on his face and froze. A strange woman was standing behind him holding a tray and frowning at her milk-splattered boots.

"What's the big idea?" she protested. "Who throws their milk? What are you, four?"

"Come on now, that's no fair! I've been told I could pass for two," he replied, turning all the way to face her.

She gave him an appraising look, but didn't seem to fluster. Frankly, Harry was surprised. He knew he was good looking- quite likely the most handsome man in the whole camp, and he was used to having girls titter and blush and act like idiots around him, but this girl did not seem to be intimidated. Instead, she peered at him from under heavy black eyelashes, blinked once, and then strode away without saying another word.

He watched her seat herself with the nurses without once meeting his eyes again. Frankly, he was shocked by her abruptness. He hadn't even gotten the chance to properly introduce himself or ask her name. And now all the nurses were hunching around her to ask her what had happened, and they kept peering back at him and giggling. Once or twice he heard someone squeal, "He's looking at us!"

Christ, what was this, high school?

He got up slowly, resolving himself to at least seem like a gentleman. He was no Hawkeye, he wasn't overzealous or excitable or excessively lusty. He strode over there with a straight back and tapped the woman on the shoulder.

She slowly set down her utensils, swallowed whatever she was chewing, and turned. "Yes?"

He held out his hand and flashed her his most charming grin. "I'm Harry Townsend. And I'm sorry about the milk, I'll try to be more careful when I throw my food from now on."

A small smile perked up the edges of her lips. She nodded. "I'm Lara Dalton." She swung her legs out of the bench and stood up. She was surprisingly tall and lithe, with angular features and wavy brown hair. She smiled back and took his hand. "Nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

He smiled again and all the girls at the table swooned. But he wasn't looking at them. He was looking at her.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

Hawkeye wandered under thesign at the front gateand hesitated, his hands jammed into his pockets. He took a moment to peer up at the wind-worn, flaking sign. "Hello, home," he muttered acidicly.

"Hawkeye! Thank God, there you are!"

He turned to see Radar scurrying out of Rosie's bar, his clipboard clutched protectively to his chest. He jogged across the road, holding his hat to his head. Hawkey smiled affectionately at the tiny clerk. "Radar?Eating out for breakfast, I see."

"Wha...?" Radar frowned in bewilderment, then his eyes widened and he shook his head vehemantly. "No, sir! I was looking for you! Jeez, what kind of a guy drinks first thing in the morning?"

Hawkeye turned away, his eyebrows lifted wryly. "You thought I was." He began to stroll into camp.

Radar, flustered, scurried after him. "That's not what I meant at all, sir. I was just thinking maybe you were there last night and-"

"Never mind, Radar, tell the colonel I'm back."

"You'd better go see him yourself, he wants to talk to you."

"If it's about the cherry tree, it wasn't me."

Radar stopped. "What?"

"Never mind." He strolled through the doors of the O.R. building, whistling some unidentifiable tune.

* * *

Colonel Potter turned from where he was standing at the window to see Hawkeye all of a sudden sitting in his chair. "Pierce? I didn't hear you come in. When did you get back?"

"About thirty-four years ago. I was the twinkle inmy mother'seye."

The colonel shooed him out of his chair and sat down with a heavy sigh. Hawkeye perched on the edge of his desk and began opening drawers, looking for alcohol.

"It's all in the cabinet, Pierce."

"But what about the stuff you used to keep in-"

"Someone found it last week."

"Oh yeah. That was good stuff." He ignored the colonel's hard stare and stretched. "Well, what's the occasion, Colonel?"

Colonel Potter removed his hat and rubbed his hand over his bare scalp, tiredly, with a deep sigh. "Pierce, I love you like a son, so I'm only saying this for your own good."

"I hate these talks."

"It's important so listen up. Now I don't know where you've been in the last couple of hours, but our new nurse just arrived and I want you to go easy on her. Give her a week or so and then you can pounce on her all you like, but just for once I'd like to get a new nurse without having to assure her you're not an escaped nymphomaniac."

Hawkeye wasn't really listening. He nodded and picked his nails.

"Pierce? Are you listening to me?"

"Got it. Leave the nurse alone."

The colonel's eyes narrowed. "Pierce, are you feeling alright?"

"Fine, Colonel," he replied softly, chewing on his lower lip. "Just havinga bit of an 'off day'I guess."

"Maybe you need to get some sleep."

"I don't think so. Maybe I'll work Post-Op with Charles."

The colonel straightened up and peered closer at Hawkeye. "Are you SURE you're feeling alright?"

A tiny smile flickered at the edges of the doctor's mouth. "I'm sure, colonel. You'll be the first to know if I'm not. I'll make a house call." He got up and strolled around to the cabinet. "Now about this lock..."

"Pierce, it's not even noon."

"Exactly. We need to geta head start on these things," he mumbled, uselessly tugging at the lock. He glanced out the window a second and studied the activity, then turned to the colonel. "If I'm being kept under lock and key," he commented mildly, "how come the DENTIST gets to make with the nurse-chasing. That's hardly fair, is it?" He went back to studying the lock.

Colonel Potter got up and went to the window. Sure enough, Harry Townsend and Lara were strolling across the compound, talking animatedly. He smiled slightly and shrugged. "Townsend's a good man. Unlike _some_ people here, I'll bet he has totally innocent intentions with that girl."

"Well that's good. And besides, dating a dentist comes in handy. He can kiss you and examine you at the same time."

The colonel turned, expecting Hawkeye's expression to be that of jealousy, or at least slight annoyance, but he seemed perfectly indifferent as he tugged at the lock. He turned back and studied Lara again. She was exactly Pierce's type. Two legs and breasts. Pretty features, long brown hair. Why hadn't he made a fuss yet?

"Honestly, Colonel, I don't know the point of these things. All they do is keep people from getting the things they want."

Potter came up behind Hawkeye and put his hand on his forehead. "Son,I think you need to take a load off and tell me what's the matter," he said in a solemn tone.

Hawkeye froze and stopped his tugging. A deep sigh rattled his lean frame, and then he turned, his eyes glassy and unmistakably sorrowful. "I wish I could. But I think in order to do that, I have to know what's the matter myself."

The colonel examined him calmly and proficiently, then nodded. "I'll get on the horn to Sidney."

Brief panic flitted across Hawkeye's face. "Dont," he pleaded. "I don't want that now. Please, don't call Sidney." He smiled woodenly. "At least wait until I start sleepwalking again."

The colonel studied Hawkeye's face a moment longer. He appeared ragged, the lines creasing his face were no longer from humor but from the perpetual frown that seemed to be ruining his typically jovial appearance. The tiredness in his voice was evident. His shoulders were more slumped than usual as he stumbled out of the colonel's office without so much as a Potter sat down heavily behind his desk, and began to seriously wonder if it wasn't time for Hawkeye to go home.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

The colonel stood with the phone against his chest, watching Hawkeye saunter away across the compound. His lips twitched as he pondered the man's hunched shoulders.

Then he put the phone back to his ear. "I understand what you're saying, Sidney, but you should see the boy. He's just not himself."

"Nevertheless, this may just be a case of mild depression. Everyone has their 'off days'." Sidney's voice floated melodiously through the telephone, calm and reasonable as ever.

The colonel scratched his head. "See, that's what I thought, but it seems to be something different. He's been this way for the last couple of days. As a matter of fact, he's only himself when he's drinking."

"Isn't that all the time?"

"Come on now, Sidney, be serious! There's a new nurse in the compound and he hasn't even attempted to meet her yet."

There was silence. "Maybe this _is_ serious."

"I told you."

Sidney sighed. "Okay, Sherm, maybe I'll make a detour on my next trip down to the front. I'll be there in two or three days. Call me if anything else serious happens."

"Thanks Sidney."

B.J. glanced up as Hawkeye came stumbling into the Swamp. "Hey, long time no see. I don't know if you remember, but I'm B.J."

"B.J.? I thought B.J. had a moustache."

"I thought Hawkeye had a sense of direction. What did you do, get lost on the way to the latrine? Where were you?"

Hawkeye collapsed onto his bed and grunted. "I don't know where I was, really. I just wasn't here."

Charles, who was reclined on his cot across the room, slowly lowered his newspaper and gave B.J. a meaningful glance over it.

The door opened and Harry strode in, heading straight for the still. "I need a drink and fast."

"Hey, the still's for swamp rats only," B.J. reprimanded. "You got your own tent, get your own booze."

"This is an emergency. I gotta make sure I'm not sleeping."

B.J. sat up and poured him a glass. "Well this'll do the trick." He handed Harry the martini glass and he downed it all in two huge gulps. His head snapped up and he gasped.

"Holy crap, since when do you use lighter fluid? This is enough to put an elephant under. God." He sat down on an overturned crate and ran a hand through his stringy black locks. Then he noticed Hawkeye collapsed on his stomach on his cot. "Hey! The prodigal doctor's back!"

Hawkeye's only reply was a grunt. Harry shook him mildly. Hawkeye batted him away.

"He's not feeling especially sociable lately," B.J. explained.

"Aw, too bad. I got a real story for you guys. He's gonna be so jealous." He leaned in conspiratorially. "You know the new nurse? Lara?"

B.J. nodded. "Wait, I know this one. She turned out to be MacArthur in disguise."

"Pfft, even better. We're going to the movies tonight." He chuckled and nudged Hawkeye. "Looks like I beat you to this one, pal."

Hawkeye didn't move. Harry watched him expectantly, waiting for a reply, but when nothing came he looked at B.J. with a concerned expression.

"What's wrong?" he mouthed. B.J. shrugged and poured himself a drink.

Even Charles was looking at Hawkeye over his paper. The three men glanced at each other, then Harry stood up.

"Thanks for the belt, boys. You coming to the movies?"

"If I can get the wife here to get off her ass," B.J. replied pointing to Hawkeye. "She never wants to go anywhere anymore."

All their eyes snapped to Hawkeye, waiting patiently for his usually witty retort. Nothing.

Harry's face was drawn and he was chewing on his lower lip. "See you later," he said mildly. "I gotta coupla teeth to pull before chow."

B.J. nodded as Harry left, then sat back against his pillow and picked up his notepad. He quickly read over what he'd written.

Dear Peg,

I understand that you don't want to pay the admittedly ludicrous bills that Princess Plumbing charges, but I do _NOT_ want you to attempt to fix the sink yourself. Princess Plumbing is still cheaper than replacing the whole damn fixture, (not that I think you can't do it, I'm sure Reynolds from next door is an excellent teacher but if he couldn't do it the first time I don't want anyone else fiddling with it.)

Tell Erin the cookies you two baked were excellent. The boys all enjoyed them. But maybe next time you could leave the pennies out of them.

Things are more or less the same here. We've gotten a new nurse again. Usually this spells chaos as whenever a new person of the female persuasion enters camp, Hawkeye's starved libido attempts a kidnapping, but to be honest, Peg, Hawk's been acting a little weird lately. He's not himself. He hasn't even tried to meet the woman yet, and she's highly attractive, believe you me. Harry's even got a date with her and Hawk doesn't seem to care. At the moment he's just lying on his stomach on his cot, doing absolutely nothing. Not speaking, not drinking, not complaining. I think I'll go over and have a talk with the colonel to see if he's noticed it too. I just hope Hawkeye hasn't finally cracked, he was the only thing keeping this camp sane.

Kiss Erin for me. I love you.

He sighed and signed his name. Hawkeye suddenly rolled onto his side and stared at B.J. with wide, serious eyes.

"Was Harry just here?"

B.J.'s brow furrowed. "Didn't you hear him? He was talking to you."

Hawkeye frowned. "Hm. Never mind then." He rolled back onto his stomach and put his face back into his pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** I apologize for the odd breaks in between lines, my computer appears to have formatted this file in an odd manner that I'm far too lazy to attempt to undo. Please bear with me.

**Chapter Six**

The mess tent hushed with anticipation as Klinger strode in, movie reel tucked under his arm.  
"Wonder what it's gonna be this time?" muttered B.J. to Harry.  
"My money's on Godzilla. I think there's a slight possibility there's one we haven't seen yet."  
Sure enough, the reel started up and a moment later the words, "First-born of Godzilla" flashed across the screen.  
Lara smiled as Harry's arm discreetly slipped around her shoulder. She leaned into him, feeling comfortable instantly. They seemed to fit together so well, his warmth was as soothing as his voice, which in itself was kind and melodic. She took a quick peek at his face in the dark, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the three-day old stubble adding mysterious shadows to his meticulously carved features. She found it flattering and yet strangely intimidating that he had taken to her so immediately. She had never fancied herself with a man like Harry Townsend. They had spent most of the afternoon together after the milk incident in the mess tent. He had given her a rather intimate tour of the compound, culminating in an up close and personal view of the supply room. He had spun her around the instant they were inside and pressed his lips against hers, and she had felt her stomach twist up almost instantaneously. Their lips seemed to fit like a jigsaw puzzle and the way that his tongue traced the ridges of her mouth made her gasp.  
He had pulled away and smiled. "Now you'll have to come to the movies with me."  
She had been able to do little else but smile and nod. "Does everybody here fall in  
love with you?"  
"Only the smart ones."  
And now she was sitting with him, and he has his arm around her and she could hear the whispers of other nurses behind them.  
"It's not fair," she heard Ginger whisper. "She's only been here a day."  
"That's why he's taken to her, she's fresh meat," murmured Janice Able.  
Harry, who had also heard, turned to Lara. "Is that true? You're fresh meat? Let's  
take a taste and find out." He bent and started nibbling on her neck, causing her to giggle. Her entire body tensed up and her heart sped up as his lips worked magic all over her skin.  
"Look, I don't mean to interrupt this little interlude, but I'm rather interested in  
the first-born of Godzilla."  
They both turned to look at the speaker, who was speaking in a deadpan voice and staring hard at the screen. "It was quite a scandal. The child was born out of wedlock. Shotgun wedding. Mother didn't show, she was too busy destroying Tokyo."

"Well thanks for ruining the ending," Harry replied, straightening up.  
Lara straightened herself on her chair and turned to look at the stranger. It was a man, average height and build, with hunched shoulders and jet black hair parted on the side. His face was round and his nose was long, his eyes a clear blue. She glanced at his collar, but there was nothing there signaling his rank.  
"Hello," she greeted. "I don't believe we've met."  
He barely glanced at her. "Hawkeye Pierce. But my friends call me Benjamin Franklin."  
She laughed and B.J. leaned over. "Boy, they don't make you nurses like they used to."

"What?"  
"Well he used to have to give a girl a few martinis before she'd laugh at his jokes."

"Back in the good old days," Harry said, slipping his arm back around her. "Stay away from her, Hawk, first come, first serve."  
Hawkeye didn't reply. Lara glanced at him again as everyone's eyes went back to the screen. His face, illuminated in the light from the movie, seemed unnaturally craggy  
and his eyes, expressive and deep, were staring emptily at the screen, his muscles tensed as if nothing could penetrate his hardened exterior.  
She allowed him one more glance before settling back against Harry's shoulder.

She was unsure of what to make of the place. It was dirty and cold and basically primitive, but she had been expecting as much. What had struck her the most about the 4077th was the camaraderie between all of the staff. It seemed most were barely clinging to sanity, and yet they had all found ways to alleviate it. For the swamp rats, it was drinking. For the nurses, it was their weekly gossip and chocolate fondue sessions. And for Harry? As he had put it, "A good book, a good woman, and a good cry every now and then."

She was a little unsure of what was going to happen when the first casualties came in. She was confident of her abilities, but nervous at the same time. It wasn't going to be easy. She had read about these MASH units in the papers. Sometimes they handled a thousand patients in a month. Meatball surgery, meaning they couldn't waste time making the wounds look pretty. The boys came in and out like they were on a conveyor belt, and the surgeons could be on their feet for a full 24 hours. All the other nurses were battle-hardened, if you could use the term. They knew the drill, and they were prepared for anything. She was not, and because of that, she was afraid.  
About halfway through the film, the man named Hawkeye suddenly stood up. They were sitting close to the doors, and he just slipped out without saying anything.  
B.J. and Harry looked at him and then at each other and sighed, not speaking.

And then, Lara suddenly felt a very strange urge to follow him. She felt silly for she hardly knew the man, but something was compelling her to go. She waited a few minutes, then excused herself to go to the latrine.  
Stepping outside of the tent was like leaving winter hibernation. The cool air  
made her feel rejuvenated and yet exhausted all at the same time. She began to drift towards the latrines, craning her face upwards and admiring the clear Korean skies as she went.  
"You'll hurt your neck doing that," said a calm voice from the shadows. She jumped and spun to see Hawkeye perched on a crate in between Major Houlihan's tent and the VIP tent.  
"Ah. Just needed a little fresh air. You?"

"I hate monster movies," he said dryly, gesturing towards the mess tent. "Give me  
nightmares. I can never sleep."  
She laughed and joined him. "Why haven't I met you yet?"  
"I've been places. Mostly not here."  
"Well I can't imagine why you would want to leave. This place is practically the Ritz."  
It'll get better. You really get to know the vermin on a personal level and then you  
realize they're just flesh-eating, filthy vultures like the rest of us."  
"Oh dear. I hope the people aren't that bad."  
He smiled. "No, they're not. Everyone's more or less a good egg. We all have our off days, but when it comes down to it, we're a family."  
She nodded and they sat in silence for a while, admiring the stillness of the compound, illuminated every once in a while by flickers of light from the movie tent.

"Are you a surgeon?" she asked finally.

"Nope. But I went to a convention once and they drafted me."

"Really? Same thing happened to me."

He smiled, but the sad droop in his eyes didn't lift. "I'm sorry if I seem a little down," he finally said, acknowledging his mood. "I'm usually much more annoying."

She nodded. "That's what Harry told me. Here I was expecting this loud-mouthed, obnoxious-"

"Only on Saturdays."

"-quick witted, anti-establishment drunkard, and what do they give me?"

"Good point. Let's write to our Congressmen."

They laughed together and the sound seemed to echo all around the still compound.

"So have you seen much of the place?" he asked.  
"Harry showed it to me."  
Hawkeye smiled bitterly. "He seems to have made quite an impression."  
Lara smiled and blushed. "Yes, he has."  
Hawkeye nodded. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his head hanging slightly.  
Lara studied him a moment. "I hope you won't mind if I pry a little, but something seems to be bothering you."  
He lifted an eyebrow. "You're perceptive."  
"Well, I'm just new to this place and I haven't seen any action yet, but it seems to me like this place isn't going to be much fun. Sometimes when people are under a lot of stress they need to talk to somebody-"  
He held up his hand. "Don't try to talk to me about stress, lady. I've been here since day one. I helped put this place together. I've patched up so more guys in a month than I would in an entire year at home. Maybe in my entire career. You won't understand what it's like to stand knee deep in entrails day after day until it happens. Then we can swap sob stories."  
She lowered her head in embarrassment and the silence was awkward. Finally Hawkeye sighed and stood up. "I'm sorry. I try to make it a point not to snap at the new kids."  
She nodded and looked up. "Well that's very gracious of you," she said in a hard tone.  
He was looking at her with narrowed eyes. "What were you expecting to find here, Lara? Were you expecting to make a difference? Were you thinking you were gonna be a hero? Because you're not. It doesn't matter if you're here or not, they'll still come. You could drop dead where you're standing and they'll still come. And it'll break you, Lara, sooner or later it'll break you. So when it does, you come and find me and then I'll tell you what's bothering me. Until then, kindly reserve judgment until you know what the hell you're talking about."

And then he walked away, leaving her alone. She watched his back retreat into the night and she was astounded, despite the verbal onslaught she had just taken, to feel herself itching to run after him again.

She got up and went back into the mess tent where Harry was waiting. "That was fast," he murmured into her hair as she slipped into his arms again.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter Seven_**

"Depression is very common in these types of situations," said Sydney Freedman, chewing on the end of his pen as he skimmed Pierce's report. "It happens to almost everybody at one time or another. Frankly, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner to Hawkeye. He's a walking time bomb, psychologically speaking."

He finally closed the file folder and looked at Colonel Potter solemnly. "But I will speak to him. Just to make sure."

"Well, if you don't think it's serious I'll take your word for it," Potter said quietly, "but that boy's been here an awful long time, longer than most of the people here. He helped put the place together. He may be the best damn surgeon in the entire Korean Theatre, but I don't want him even close to an O.R. if he's not mentally stable."

"Well, listlessness and extreme irritability are definitely symptoms…" Sydney said slowly, "and if he has been exhibiting uncharacteristic personality traits, we may have a real problem. Hawkeye's been operating in perpetual survival mode since he got here. Joke to survive. Laugh to survive. Have sex to survive. Drink to survive. Everything he does is just his way of hanging on to that ledge in his mind just a little bit longer."

"And now you think he's finally fallen off."

"Perhaps not that extreme. I suspect he's just lost his footing."

Colonel Potter sighed and got up, retrieving a bottle of Scotch from the mahogany liquor cabinet in the corner. "Well, I can't let you go without a belt, Sydney. Strange things are happening here, strange things."

He handed the psychiatrist a glass and they both sipped it somberly.

"He lashed out at the new nurse a few nights ago," Potter said suddenly.

"In O.R.?"

"No, it was movie night, they were both outside. I heard them from my tent. He was pretty downright nasty to her. Very bitter."

"Hm. You think she herself could have something to do with it? Maybe it was something about her, not something about him."

Potter was about to open his mouth and dismiss Sydney's comment as impossible, but then it occurred to him that Hawkeye's odd behaviour had started catching people's attention the day Nurse Dalton had arrived. However, B.J. and Charles had reported Hawkeye seeming listless and distracted _before_ he had taken off for the entire day, before he had even met Lara.

"I doubt it," he finally said. "I think she may have been just the final straw."

"But it started the day she arrived?"

"Yes, but I expect it's been bubbling under the surface for a while. Hunnicut said something to me about Hawkeye being more on edge lately as long as two days before Dalton arrived."

"And then he disappeared for an entire day?"

"Yep. We had no idea where he went. Very scary."

"I see. Give me another." He handed Potter his glass to be refilled. "This is all rather alarming for me too, Colonel. I've always regarded Hawkeye as a good friend, and it somewhat scares me that he could be just like the rest of us."

"He's just as afraid and angry as the rest of us. You should know that."

"Oh, I do, believe me, I do. It's like I always say: anger turned inwards is depression. Anger turned sideways is Hawkeye."

The colonel allowed himself a hearty chuckle at that one, and for the first time the lines of worry around his eyes lifted. "That may just be the only way to describe him."

Lara wandered back to the desk in Post-Op where Nurse Lily Baker was scribbling in the log. She had already made two rounds of the beds, but there were only a couple of patients. The action had been remarkably slow, and she still hadn't gone into the O.R.

"Be thankful," the other nurses had told her. "It's nothing to look forward to."

Still, she was anxious to see what everybody was talking about when they spoke of a MASH unit. She wanted to witness the chaos firsthand.

"Feeling better?" she asked Lily, who had had a slight case of flu for most of the week.

Lily smiled good-naturedly. "Yes, I believe I am. It's nothing new around here. I'm just happy it isn't dysentery for once."

Lara plopped down in a chair beside the pretty nurse and sighed. "I don't think Janice likes me."

Janice Able was tall, blonde, brilliant, and the biggest bitch in the entire compound. She was the basic equivalent to the snotty captain of the cheerleading squad back in high school, and for some reason, she had decided that she hated Lara.

Lara was far to mature to care much about Able's constant rumor-spreading and malicious comments. She had found friends in Betty Donovan, Lily Baker, Kelly Reynolds, and Ginger O'Sullivan. Janice Able had been furious that her friends had taken to Lara so fast, but fortunately, some things had changed since high school, and the fact that nobody cared what Janice thought seemed to make her even more furious.

"Don't give her any mind," Lily said with a tiny smile. "Janice is just jealous."

"Jealous? Why on earth? She's beautiful, intelligent, funny-"

"And single. And _you_ have the only man she's ever wanted."

"What, you mean-"

The doors swung open and Harry suddenly strode in, breaking into a wide smile upon seeing her. "Why hello my dear! Off duty soon?"

Nurse Baker lifted her head and smiled at Lara, nudging her with her eblow. "Speak of the devil…"

Lara smothered a grin and stood up. "Don't you ever have work to do?"

Harry merely smiled, seized her, and planted a kiss on her lips, eliciting cheers and catcalls from some of the patients.

"Now look what you've done!" Lily chastised half-heartedly, getting up to force a chest patient back onto his bed.

"I have another hour still," Lara said regretfully as they broke apart.

"Another _hour_?" Harry murmured. "Can't you find anyone else to cover for you?"

"Absolutely not!" Lara exclaimed, pretending to be scandalized. "What kind of a nurse do you think I am?"

"A very very sexy one."

She giggled as he began nibbling on her ear.

"Okay, break it up you two," B.J. said as he strode into the room with an x-ray in one hand, "and will someone PLEASE tell me where Charles is? This is the third day this week he's been late relieving me!"

Harry stepped away from Lara regretfully. "I'll go find him. He's been spending a lot of time in Father Mulcahy's tent."

"Mulcahy? Really?" B.J. said, sounding incredulous. "Charles hates Mulcahy and he cares even less for religion."

"I have a feeling he's made a rather miraculous conversion."

"Really? You know why?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe his stocks are falling."

B.J. grinned wryly and beckoned him away. Harry blew a kiss to Lara over his shoulder and trotted away.

B.J. turned and smiled at Lara. "What have you done to the guy? If he keeps smiling this much he's going to break his face."

Lara blushed and took the x-ray from him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Harry paced back and forth through the crisp, tall stalks of grass, letting his hands brush their tips while he waited. He had laid out a picnic especially for them, but she was late, and he was eager.

His heart pounded a little faster at the thought of her. The curve of her hip, the shine of her hair, the way her nose curved upwards at the tip, the way her laugher sounded like-

Jesus, he was getting corny now. He sat down hard and put his head between his knees, but he couldn't erase the smile on his face. Harry was in love.

He heard gravel crunching; she was on her way down the road. His heart sped up and he leapt up as he saw her approaching through the trees. Without even shouting a greeting, he leapt down the incline and seized her.

"My," she gasped when they finally broke apart, "you don't give a girl much of a chance to get settled, do you?"

He smiled and led her back to the picnic area. "My apologies. How are you?"

"Well, alright, except that I was just accosted by this rather rude dentist. Horrid fellow. "

"I'll kill him."

"Don't, he's _so_ handsome."

"Yeah, he is, isn't he?"

They laughed and kissed each other again, lying down on the blanket. Harry poured her a glass of beer, (the only available liquor at the moment,) and they sipped it while staring up at the sky.

"God, has it only been a week?"

"Week and a half actually."

"My, we're practically married, aren't we?"

"Just have to consummate it," she said casually, sipping her drink. He stopped and looked at her.

"Do you mean…"

"Yes, I do."

"Now?"

"No time like the present."

"But have you ever…"

"Not that I recall, although I have had several close encounters…"

"But you're so good at…"

"At what?"

"At…kissing…and stuff…"

"Well for heaven's sake, Harry, I'm a virgin, not a nun."

He laughed and squeezed her closer, kissing her forehead. "I have to say, I've grown very…fond of you."

"Is that all?"

He looked down at her seriously. "No, that's not all. These last few days have been…remarkable."

She smiled up at him. Her face seemed to take on a certain glow when she was smiling, he decided. "For me as well. But I suspect it will fade when the first few wounded finally roll in."

"Don't wish for it, dear, believe me. Enjoy this dry spell, but don't get greedy."

She sighed and settled into the crook of his shoulder. Being that close to him made her dizzy. By his sharp intake of breath, she could tell he felt the same.

"I don't think we're going to do much eating, are we?" she murmured.

"I don't think it's very likely," he replied as he rolled on top of her.

Hawkeye was furious. "If you're not here to play poker, I don't want you in my tent."

Sydney gave him a mocking smile. "Come now. I thought our relationship was based on so much more than gambling."

Hawkeye glowered in reply. "If you really are my friend you'd know I don't need to talk. I don't have to. I don't need to."

"Don't be idiotic, man, you're a doctor. You must have at least realized by now that you're feeling a little…down."

"Down, but not out, Sydney."

"I never accused you of being out, Hawk, but I want to make sure it never happens."

"It's not going to," Hawkeye growled, getting up and drowning his last gulp of gin. "I'm talking to Colonel Potter about this." He began to stride towards the door.

Sydney stood up. "Potter thought you might have a problem with me trying this. So he said to tell you that if you don't cooperate, he's not going to let you operate."

Hawkeye froze, and then very slowly turned. "What?" he said in a soft, hurt voice.

"It's nothing personal, Hawkeye, he just can't let you operate if he thinks you're mentally unstable."

"So he _does_ think I'm unstable!"

Sydney walked over and guided the irate Hawkeye back to his cot. "Son, he's not the only one. B.J. and Charles-"

"The rat finks!"

"I really wish you'd stop viewing this as a personal attack."

"Well tell me, how am I supposed to view it?"

"As intervention, Hawkeye, intervention! A group of people who care very much for your well being have come to me because they are afraid for you, and they are worried about your behaviour."

"My behaviour…" Hawkeye spat, getting up. "As if none of them have ever had a low spell." He faced the window in the door and stared out at the bustling compound. "I can't believe Potter would threaten that…I'd never bring my personal problems into the O.R."

"You've got to understand, son, Potter doesn't know what's wrong with you, or how serious it is. He couldn't take the chance with those boys' lives, or he wouldn't be a very good commanding officer!"

Hawkeye sank onto his cot and put his head in his hands. "I know," he said in a low voice. It was quiet for a long time, and then he lifted his head. "I'm sorry for shouting."

"I'm sorry for being here."

"Don't be." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "The fact is, I don't know what's wrong with me, Sydney."

"Quite normal. It'll surface. Try describing your symptoms."

"Insomnia, listlessness, despair, anguish, depression, disgust, paranoia, irritability, defensiveness, and really bad stomach aches."

Sydney raised his eyebrows. "Well I guessed as much."

Hawkeye stared at his old friend wryly. "Got any ideas, Doc?"

"When did this start?"

"Well, the despair, disgust, anguish and stomach aches have pretty much been constant since I got here. The rest…well I started feeling a little off just a few days before Nurse Dalton arrived…but it was odd…it sort of exploded on that day, when she got here. It was like, in the days before she came, I knew something was going to happen…and then it came true somehow…only I don't know what. It's all very strange, just out of reach…I can't explain it."

Sydney's mind was whirling. Nurse Dalton…again…could she really be the link?

"Lara Dalton," Sydney said quickly, "have you ever spoken with her?"

"Once," Hawkeye said quietly, looking up at Sydney sharply. "Didn't go very well."

"That's what I heard."

"But I don't see how that's relevant…"

"It's probably not, I'm just thinking out loud."

It went quiet again, and then Hawkeye sighed. "Sydney, I'm kind of tired. Do you think we could do this later?"

Sydney nodded. They had already made a massive leap. "Of course." He stood up. "Try to have a nap. Close your mind, don't think about things. And no more bizarre excursions without telling people where you're going."

"Okay, Syd."

Sydney exited the Swamp with a satisfied expression on his face. The hardest part, getting him to admit the problem, had gone over easier than expected. Everything else would be downhill from here, he was sure of it.

Harry rolled off of Lara with a satisfied groan. "How was that?"

"Nice," she said lazily, twiddling a piece of hair in her fingers. "I'm sorry I've been missing it all these years."

He laughed and kissed her neck. "Now I want to know more about you."

"I've told you everything there is to know already," she said, smiling. "It's my turn."

"Ask away."

She bit her lip. "Hmm." And then a name popped into her head. "Tell me about Hawkeye Pierce."

Harry propped himself up on an elbow. "Hawkeye? Why him?"

"I don't know. He seems different than the others."

"Well, he's always been a little off kilter. Bizarre, zany, witty, suave, great singer, superb surgeon, an intelligent, womanizing, boozing, cad, who is completely and utterly desperate."

"Desperate?"

"Hawkeye's a pacifist in a uniform. Hates the war. Hates seeing kids being cycled past his gloves on a conveyor belt. He's become rather bitter over the last few months, the action's been pretty heavy." Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking. But then he lightened up. "At least no matter what happens, you can always count on him to make you laugh."

"Laugh?" Lara scoffed. "That's not been my experience. Every time I've seen him he's been rude, boorish, irritable, dull, and downright depressive. And besides, in the first conversation we had he reamed me out!"

He glanced at her. "You just don't know what he's been through. He's normally pretty patient and light hearted. I just think that lately he's going through what you might call, 'a series of off-days'. I don't know, though, since you've been here I've hardly talked to him." He cuddled her closer. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll get to meet the real Hawkeye soon. You'll love him, I'm sure of it."

"It seems doubtful," she replied coldly. He scoffed and blew gently on her neck.

"Lighten up, darling. We don't have to be back for another twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes?" she smiled, turning to face him. "Hm…what do you suppose we could we do with that time?"

He grinned down at her charmingly, a lock of dark hair falling in his eyes. "I could think of one idea."


End file.
